


Wanking In The MI6

by WinterTheWriter



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: F/F, F/M, Facial, Fluff, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Pegging, Polyamory, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 03:17:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5318402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterTheWriter/pseuds/WinterTheWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg, Sally, and Molly live happily together in a three-way relationship. The only thing that could possibly make it any better is the addition of one Mycroft Holmes, but they've all resigned themselves to the fact that he'll never want him that way.</p><p>Until, of course, they find the camera in their bedroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Perfect Mornings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Raspberry_Blond](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raspberry_Blond/gifts).



> For @raspberry_blond. A good friend of yours loves you. Happy birthday!

Molly wakes up warmer than anyone else on the planet every day, just as she has for the past year. She hums sleepily as awareness creeps into her mind and she shifts against Greg’s chest, curling her naked body as close to him as possible. One of his arms rests under her head, the other hovering above her as the warm, calloused pads of his fingertips caress her cheek and push back her hair. Molly smiles to herself, her own hand leaving his side to travel down her own before she meets the soft skin of Sally’s arm curled around her waist. Sally presses closer to her as Molly covers her hand with her own.

It’s a perfect morning. 

It’s always a perfect morning.

Seven months ago, the three of them never would’ve imagined they’d have a lifetime of perfect mornings ahead of them, never mind the thought of them sharing those mornings together. It was preposterous. Impossible. Risky. The three of them were content with their shared glances and inside jokes and lingering touches on the workforce, in the morgue, behind Sherlock’s back. But, like the moon pulling the tides, they were inevitably drawn together. And, like the pieces of a puzzle, they stuck.

Sure, it was a bit…awkward, at first. Molly was shy about her body, and Sally didn’t like that she wasn’t immediately perfect at cunnilingus (Molly’s her first girl – she’d never dared try beforehand), and Greg panicked over his middle-aged stamina when faced with two of the most gorgeous people to ever exist on this Earth. It took weeks of trial and error, embarrassing moments, and gentle coaxing for them to fall into their rhythm. Soon, however, Molly slept naked, Sally made her cum five times, and Greg had both of them cross-eyed and giggly with bliss before falling after them. 

Perfect.

“Mmmmorning,” Molly mumbles to both of them, her words followed by a small yawn. The soft brushes of curls against her shoulders is her only warning before Sally presses a warm, lingering kiss to her cheek. 

“Good morning, pretty thing,” she purrs jokingly, grinning as Molly blushes and grins at the nickname she loves more than she thought she would. Greg chuckles lightly, bending his head to kiss the side of Sally’s.

“Good morning, darlings,” he says, voice raspy with sleep. Molly finally opens her eyes and grins at both of them, nestling in closer. 

“Right then,” she starts, “who’s using the loo first? I really have to piss.”

~

They’re all back in bed fifteen minutes later, freshened up and ready to start the day the best way they know how.

Sally grins to herself as Molly tugs at Greg’s hair while grinding down against him, pulling a strangled groan from his lips as he pulls her closer in his lap. Molly cants her hips along the length of his cock, rubbing it through her wetness and against her clit as she moans at the feeling. Sally’s drenched at just the sight, two fingers already buried inside of herself. After a moment, she pulls them out and moves behind Molly, kissing along her neck as she forces her two wet fingers between her lips. All three of them groan at the sight (and feeling) of Molly’s pink lips closing around the digits, wet tongue laving off all traces of slick.  
“On your sides, Christ,” Sally breathes, pulling her fingers free to help them move. She turns to scramble for her strapless strap-on and the lube once they’re down, and the wet squelch of Greg pushing inside of Molly’s entrance with a grunt hurries her even more. She looks back, items in hand, and watches dazedly as Greg grasps Molly’s thigh over his hip, his thrusts slow and deep as Molly tosses her head back and moans in that high, kittenish way she does. Sally moves behind Greg, kissing his shoulder softly (he gives a simply gorgeous shudder at the contact) and coating her fingers with lube. 

Soon enough, she’s massaged three fingers into his tightness, thrusting them out of rhythm with him and Molly’s movements. Occasionally, she swipes her fingers across his prostate, causing a gorgeous chain reaction. Greg gasps, and bucks his hips, which makes Molly cry out, which makes Greg moan again. Sally pulls out her fingers and wipes them on the bed, near shaking with anticipation.

It’s always mind-blowing, this. 

She slides the short bulb of the toy inside of her, rubbing the long, silicone cock-end against Greg’s opening. He looks back at her with hooded eyes and Molly grins salaciously at her, the lion showing through the lamb. Sally grins back, kisses Greg’s cheek, and thrusts inside of him. He cries out and curses as she bites down onto his shoulder, the bulb rubbing against all the right spots inside of her. It isn’t long until the three of them are moving together, rocking desperately in every direction, hands stealing to warm skin and lips blindly seeking purchase. 

The pleasure mounting between them is tangible, alive and growing, the air filled with lewd, wet slaps and guttural moans and keens of pure ecstasy. It’s building and building, everything becoming urgent and frantic and shaky, before they fall off that edge into gasping release like dominos. Molly falls first, yelling out incomprehensibly as she shakes and clenches and writhes. The feeling of her tightening like a vice around his cock paired with Sally’s dildo pounding into him has Greg growling out his orgasm next, biting onto Molly’s neck as he trembles and bucks his hips. And finally, Sally grips onto Greg’s waist as she lets out a series of short, high cries, clenching and twitching around the bulb inside of her. 

They melt into the bed as one, desperately trying to regain their breath, large grins on their faces. Sally pulls the dildo from both of their bodies (both she and Greg whimper a little), tossing it aside, and her and Molly curl up on either side of him. He shifts onto his back and pulls them closer, kissing each of their heads as Molly grabs hold of Sally’s hand, resting them above Greg’s heart.

None of them notice the small, red light blinking from the ceiling in the corner of the room.


	2. Pictures And Flirting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sally and Molly have some fun with unexpected results.

Sally moans out loudly, hands buried in Molly’s hair as she tosses her head back against the pillows. Molly grins between her legs, tongue hot and wet as it circles the swollen bud of her clit before she closes her lips around it and sucks. Sally’s thighs shake beneath Molly’s grip as her back arches off the bed, the lovely curves of her breasts all Molly can see when she looks up. Humming happily, she trails her tongue down Sally’s slit before dipping into her entrance, thrusting languidly. The taste of her is heady and sweet, bursting with flavor on her taste buds, and Molly presses her mouth as close to her as possible for more.

They’ve been at this for hours, now. First, Sally had finger-fucked Molly, whispering filthy things into her ear as Molly gasped and whined and clutched Sally through it all, her orgasms blurring together into one pleasure-filled haze. It only took Molly a few minutes of recovery before she’d pushed Sally back and settled between her thighs, content to keep her on the edge without letting her cum forever.

The fingers in Molly’s hair pull in earnest now, Sally’s hips rising and falling as she grinds against Molly’s mouth, the pleasure inside of her once again bubbling up in her belly. This time, Molly stays where she is, moaning in encouragement as she licks and sucks every inch she can possibly reach. It’s only a moment later that Sally sobs out her release, her grip becoming deliciously painful as more delicious wetness floods Molly’s mouth. 

Molly’s licks become softer and broader, easing her back down to Earth until she can kiss her way back up Sally’s body. They kiss lovingly, tasting each other with upturned lips, warm hands stroking and petting whatever they can reach. The chill of the air disturbs them quickly enough, and they giggle as they cuddle together.

“You’re amazing,” Sally murmurs, kissing Molly’s forehead. “My pretty thing.” 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Molly retorts softly, nuzzling into her neck. They laugh quietly together, talking in hushed voices, content in their little bubble of a world. Sally grabs her phone to check any messages as Molly watches, head resting on her breast. “…Sally?” She asks, a mischievous note in her voice. 

“Mmmmm?”

“Greg’s working.”

“He is.”

“But he has his phone on him.”

“He does.”

“We are naked.”

“We are.”

“Mmmm.”

“…Molly Hooper,” Sally gasps, pretending to be scandalized. “Are you suggesting we send our boyfriend naked, sexy pictures to disrupt his concentration at work?”

“I would /never/ think of such a dirty, filthy thing!” Molly scoffs. They stare at each other for a moment before dissolving into giggles.

“Let’s do it.” Sally waggles her eyebrows. Molly whoops victoriously. 

~

Greg stands in the corner of the conference room, glad to be up after two hours of trying to get through to officers who, honestly, couldn’t care less about what he said. He sighs and scrubs a weary hand over his face. New recruits give the greatest migraines, he swears on it. He wonders, distantly, if Sherlock’s done at the crime scene he put someone else in charge of and feels a sharp pang of envy. Arsehole detective, never doing the “boring stuff.”

A flash of ginger catches his eye and Greg feels a grin spread across his face. Mycroft, in all his pompous and sexy glory, stands stiffly in the main lobby, hands tightly gripping the handle of his umbrella. Greg saunters from the conference room and over to him, nudging him with his elbow when he’s close enough. “Fancy seeing you here, mate.” 

Mycroft stiffens (Greg didn’t know he could get any tenser) before turning to face him, smiling thinly. “Gregory. Good afternoon.” Anyone else would find the words to be dismissive and formal, but Greg sees a hint of warmth and affection in those calculating eyes of his. It makes Greg’s smile widen, delighting in the attention.

Greg’s had a crush on Mycroft for a while now, something he shares with his girlfriends, and they’ve all privately fantasized about him joining their little group. Now’s his chance to flirt like it’s going out of style. He ignores it when his phone vibrates in his pocket in favor of standing just a bit too close, eyes fixed on Mycroft’s. “And what can I do for you, hmm?” 

There’s a light blush on Mycroft’s face at the words, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly before he regains his composure. “Nothing for the moment. I am simply here to see if everything’s running smoothly.”

“Damn. And here I thought you just wanted to see me.” Greg’s phone vibrates again, and then two times more. Mycroft seems to flounder for a proper response, so Greg takes that moment to pull out his phone and check it for messages.

Six pictures. Six glorious pictures of his girlfriends naked and giggly on their bed, kissing and touching and pressing against each other. Greg feels his mouth drop open at the sight, his eyes wide with desire. He forgets where he is, staring at the two beauties he gets to love, and nearly jumps out of his skin when Mycroft clears his throat.

“Everything alright, Gregory?” He asks, his cheeks redder than before for some reason. Are his pupils dilated, or is it just a trick of the light?

Greg hastily locks his phone and puts it away, grinning toothily as he rights himself. “Yes! Sorry, I was just…distracted…by something. Er. What did you say?”

“I said, ‘I’m certain you aren’t torn up over it.’”

“Oh. Oh! Well, Mister, I’ll have you know I’ve a tender heart.” Greg pouts jokingly at him, trying his best to get those pictures out of his mind. The last thing he needs is a boner in front of Mycroft Bloody Holmes. Although, with the way Mycroft is looking at him…perhaps he wouldn’t be so adverse as he thought.


	3. I Spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A joke over take-out turns out to be truer than expected.

“Your elbow is in my gut.” 

“Your gut is under my elbow.”

“I’m under /both/ of you, and this is really not a good position to eat take-out in.”

The three of them are piled on top of each other on the couch, grimacing and shifting as they try to get comfortable. Take-out boxes are littered around them on the floor and coffee table, untouched and hot. Finally, the three give up and nearly fall over each other to stand, mumbling about bruised parts and unfair anatomy. 

Soon enough, they’re cuddled together under the throw blanket, happily munching on take-out. Greg’d gotten home two hours beforehand, nearly tackling Sally and Molly onto the bed. They’d showered and changed into their comfiest sweats, all giggles and smiles, content to spend the night with a movie and their company. “Y’know,” Greg begins around a mouthful of Udon noodles. He swallows for a moment before continuing. “Mycroft definitely flirted with me today. Before you girls pulled that stunt of yours.”

“/Mycroft/ flirted with you?” Sally asks, eyebrows raised as she pops a dumpling into her mouth.

“Swear to God! …Well, I flirted with him, but he liked it. Hundred percent. It was adorable.”

“How do we know this?” Molly giggles, shifting to turn towards him more fully. Greg grins at her, nudging her gently.

“I just have game, babe.” He laughs as both Sally and Molly hit him with a pillow. “Alright, alright! He blushed. A lot. Floundered like a beached fish when I said certain things. It’s funny, he actually blushed /more/ after he saw me leering at my phone.” 

“Maybe there’s a secret camera in our room and he’s just watching us all screw each other silly,” Sally jokes, sending Molly into a fit of laughter. 

“Oh, I can just imagine that! Wanking in an MI6 office, pressed suit around his ankles…,” Molly sighs dreamily. 

“We should check.” Greg’s words are serious, but he’s beaming. “It was /weird/. Come on.”

“Greg, I’m sure Mycroft Holmes has not bugged our bedroom to creepily (sexily) watch us fuck.”

“Then, Sally, doll, you won’t have any problem checking with me.”

The two have a brief staring contest. Molly watches them and counts in her head until someone blinks (it’s Greg). Sally sighs in defeat and stands. “Fine, you win. You’re ridiculous, but you win. Coming, Molly?”

“Only when Mycroft’s watching~,” she purrs, standing as well. 

They laugh as Greg flips them off before leading the way to the bedroom.

~

There’s a camera. 

It’s a small, inoffensive black spot in one corner of the room, high on the ceiling. Perfect vantage point to watch the bed and anything that may occur on it. It’s off, according to Greg, but definitely…a camera.   
The three of them make their way back to the living room in shocked silence, sitting together on the couch as they try to process what they saw. On one hand, it’s a huge invasion of privacy. On the other hand…it’s sexy as all hell. “So,” Sally starts, “Mycroft put a camera in our room to watch us fuck.”

“Told you,” Greg mumbles, earning a light slap on the arm from Molly.

“Maybe it’s not Mycroft. Maybe it’s Moriarty! Or….Sherlock.” The three of them shudder at that.

“Don’t even joke, Molls,” Sally says, wrapping an arm around her. “The last thing I want to think about right now is Barbie, The Twink Edition watching us have sex.” Greg chokes on his own spit at the nickname, shaking his head.

“I bloody love you.”

“Love you too,” Sally and Molly reply together. The three laugh before sobering up, and Greg fixes them with a serious stare.

“I want him. I want him to join us. And he obviously wants it too.”

“I agree,” Molly says, leaning her head on Sally’s shoulder.

“I’m not saying I don’t,” Sally says hesitantly, “because I do, but…all jokes aside, this is /Sherlock’s brother/ here. Sherlock’s brother who can destroy all our lives with a secret code and /definitely/ invaded our privacy by doing this.”

“I’m not saying that was right of him, darling, but you know how the Holmes’ are. He didn’t mean it to be as…creepy and invasive and wrong as it was. You have to admit; the intentions are sexy.”

“Yes, yes, but…this could go so wrong. The three of us – we’re perfect together. We’re amazing. I’m afraid of disrupting that balance for the sake of a crush.”

“A mutual crush,” Molly reminds gently, kissing her shoulder. “It’ll be difficult, yeah, but how long have we wanted this? The only reason we didn’t try anything was because we assumed we’d be rejected. But now we have concrete proof that he /wants us back./” Greg nods in agreement and Sally sighs.

“I suppose.”

“Besides, it’s like you said: we’re perfect. Nothing can ruin our balance. We are un-ruin-able.” Molly grins, tongue in teeth, and Sally can’t help but grin back as she kisses the tip of her nose. 

“Right. Fuck it. Let’s do something about this and get that posh wanker into our bed.”

Molly and Greg cheer and Sally laughs fondly. The three of them stay up for half the night, planning and discussing how to properly seduce Mycroft Holmes.


	4. The Seduction Of Mycroft Holmes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The three's plan is set into motion, with rousing success.

Greg’s world is nothing but sensation and sound. He feels the tight, sturdy grip of hand-conditioned jute that holds his wrists to the headboard, the soft rasp of cloth over his eyes, and most of all, the /magnificent/ feeling of his girls taking complete advantage of him. Molly (at least, he thinks it’s Molly) rides him hard and fast, her inner walls gripping his cock as she bounces, moaning and whining above him. Meanwhile, Sally licks and kisses his neck and chest, biting his nipples roughly before soothing the sting with her tongue.

He’s long since given up muffling the noises his loves can pull from him.

This is a show. Of course, everything is genuine, but everyone in the room knows exactly how sexy they’re being, how pornographic their movements are. Last night, they decided to show Mycroft exactly what he could get with them, and they plan on making that statement very, very clear.

Molly pulls off of him, ignoring Greg’s whine of protest, moving up the bed to sit on his face. Instantly, he delves his tongue between her folds, grunting in pleasure as Sally takes his cock inside of her a moment later. Molly tosses her head back, arching and grinding as she cries out her pleasure, and Sally whimpers with every thrust of her hips as she claws down Greg’s chest. They play each other like instruments, perfectly in tune, perfectly orchestrated. 

After Molly reaches orgasm, thighs shaking on either side of Greg’s head, she moves behind Sally, gripping her breasts and tweaking her nipples from behind with one hand as she rubs her clit with the other. Sally throws her head back onto Molly’s shoulder as she cums, and Greg grunts out a warning at the feeling of it all. Giggling breathlessly, Sally immediately pulls off of him, but Greg doesn’t have time to complain before two talented tongues are licking every inch of his cock and balls. 

Christ almighty, the pleasure might actually kill him.

One mouth (Molly’s?) takes him deep into her throat and he cries out, bucking up into the wet suction. He groans and whines, then moaning lowly when Sally rubs her sex across his lips. Immediately he focuses all his will-power into pleasuring her, just so he can last a /little/ bit longer. Sally sinks her fingers into his short hair and pulls, riding his face with that dominance streak of hers they both love so much. Molly moans around his cock at the sight and Greg helplessly keens against Sally’s clit. He’s rewarded with a sharp gasp from above him at the vibration. 

Sally falls into her third orgasm of the night when, in desperation, Greg grinds his nose against her clit as he curls his tongue inside of her. Her cries are almost enough to send him hurtling into orgasm after her, especially paired with Molly’s exquisite mouth, but Molly pulls off at just the last second and squeezes the base of his cock. 

Desperate and breathless with it all, Greg sags back against the bed with a groan as Sally moves off of him. Two tongues lick the wetness from Greg’s lips and jaw, and he opens his mouth helplessly as he wriggles. “Please, Christ, let me cum,” he grunts. He hears two mischievous giggles and pouts. 

“Are you begging for us, Greg?” Molly asks sweetly, licking a trail from his jaw to his ear.

“Going to /keep/ begging for us?” Sally continues, biting his lower lip gently.

Greg hisses out, “/Yes/, yes, fuck, yes. Please, God, I’ll do anything. Please, I need to cum. Please…” Dignity be damned. His cock could fuck through diamond right now. The two girls pause to hum thoughtfully, obviously taking great pleasure in making sure Greg gets none. Well, none with a happy ending. 

“I /suppose,/” Molly starts.

“We /could,/” Sally finishes. “You have been very good for us.” They giggle again and Greg feels the heat of their bodies travel down. Soon, hot breath washes over his cock again and he breathlessly pleads once more. And then, two tongues lick broad stripes up each side of his cock.

The tension in him snaps and he yells out hoarsely, jute biting into his skin as he pulls and twists through it all. Molly and Sally untie Greg and remove his blindfold, and Greg feels his cock actually twitch at the sight of their faces covered in his cum. They grin filthily at him with a wink before the three of them turn to the camera, staring dead-on, and say, “Wish you were here,” in unison.

~

In an undisclosed location, Mycroft Holmes sits in front of a surveillance screen, pressed suit around his ankles. His cock is soft and spent in his semen-covered hand. His eyes are wide and his mouth is open. For the first time in years, perhaps ever, Mycroft is actually shocked into stillness. 

He knows what he’s doing is wrong. Of course he does. But he hasn’t been able to stop himself, and so he’s given up trying. After watching Greg look at obviously dirty pictures of Molly and Sally, all Mycroft could think about was rushing to this room to see what he’s missed. 

And oh, the show he got tonight. 

The three objects of his affection sleep together often, but this was something special. This was a /gift/, an invitation, beckoning him to sit and watch and cum with them, /for/ them. He’d mused through it all about how he’ll have wanking material for the rest of his life after this, but it all stopped at those words. 

They know.

They know, and they aren’t angry, and they /want him/. He’d never dare to imagine the possibility of the three of them actually liking him back, lusting for him like he does for them. It was a fantasy, a dream, a fairy-tale. For a moment, Mycroft considered pinching himself.

He inhales shakily as he turns off the camera and wipes himself clean with tissues, not bothering to tuck himself away as he leans back into his seat. His heart hammers in his ears and his vision swims (panic or euphoria?), so he closes his eyes and allows himself to slouch. Breathe. Think. Breathe. Think. 

What do to, what to do.

The sound of the door clicking open jerks him out of his reverie. In his haste to watch his favorite “show,” he must’ve forgotten to lock it. He stands up quickly, almost falling over his still-down trousers, and comes face to face with a very surprised, very unamused Anthea.

She makes no effort to hide her disgust and Mycroft holds up a hand the second he sees her open her mouth to speak. “I will pay you any sum of money you wish if you turn around, walk out, and never speak of this again.” Her mouth closes with a click and she nods curtly before turning on her heel and walking out.

Fuck.


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft does something about what he saw. Finally.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Molly, Sally, and Greg look up in unison at the slow, deliberate knocking. They exchange looks that are equal parts terrified and excited. It’s been three excruciatingly slow days since their “show,” with no word from Mycroft. Since then, they’ve been a mess, wondering if they were wrong about everything. What if it really was someone else? What if they scared him off? What if he never intended the spying to be sexual, let alone romantic? The three had just settled down in the living room with their laptops, the TV a low hum in the background, but the knocks brought all those questions back to the forefront of their minds.  
Greg sighs shakily and stands, walking to the door. Sally turns off the TV. Molly puts away the laptops. The two girls sit together on the couch, holding hands as they wait. When Greg opens the door, he visibly relaxes at the sight of Mycroft standing there with a shy sort of smile on his face. “Fancy seeing you here,” Mycroft says coyly, raising his eyebrows. 

“Took you long enough,” Greg says, grinning with sparkling eyes as he lets Mycroft in. “We thought we’d scared you off.”

“You did. But I got over it.” They chuckle quietly as they walk into the living room, Sally and Molly perking up when they see them. “Hello, girls.” They grin and stand, walking over to them.

“Hi,” Molly says, suddenly shyer than she’s been, but still smiling and meeting Mycroft’s eye. Sally simply steps forward and kisses Mycroft’s cheek before stepping back.

“Oi, don’t give him a heart attack!” Greg laughs when Mycroft stares at her with wide eyes. He snaps out of it at Greg’s words and nudges him.

“I’m younger than you, Gregory.”

Molly snorts. Sally laughs. Greg whines.

“I admit, though,” Mycroft says, suddenly serious, “I am incredibly nervous. My experience with /anything/ sexual or romantic is limited, let alone a polyamorous one.” He expects to be judged. Maybe scoffed at, or taunted, or teased. Instead, however, he gets three soft smiles as he’s lead to the couch and sat down. Molly and Sally sit on either side of him and Greg stands behind him, large warm hands on his shoulders. 

“This is at your pace,” Sally says, her voice soothing and low. 

“Nothing happens, /ever/, that you don’t want or aren’t ready for,” Molly croons, nuzzling into his neck.

“We care about you, Mycroft. Really. Just relax, and we’ll take it nice and slow,” Greg mumbles, leaning down to nuzzle behind Mycroft’s ear. Mycroft shudders and shuts his eyes, nodding his consent. Smiling at each other, the three lead Mycroft to their bedroom, taking turns kissing him and removing their clothing.

Soon enough, all four of them are naked, and they sit Mycroft on the edge of the bed. “Just a massage and kisses,” Greg says, kissing up the back of Mycroft’s neck. Mycroft moans gently and nods. The girls cuddle him on either side, kissing his neck, chest and face as Greg gently massages his shoulders and back.

It’s slow, but the tension building between the four of them is undeniable, and soon enough Mycroft gains enough confidence for it to turn heated.

Mycroft doesn’t know when “taking it slow” turned into him fucking Greg from behind as Greg pounds into Molly below him, with Sally sat on her face, but he truly isn’t complaining. From this angle, she can kiss both Greg and Mycroft, and everything is tight and wet and soft and warm and perfect (albeit a bit awkward at times).

The four of them fall over the edge simultaneously, crying out and shaking and shuddering before they collapse onto the bed. They lie there in silence for a while, simply enjoying the novelty and contentment of it all, before they finally gather enough strength to clean up amidst giggles and stolen kisses and a rousing game of, “Who Can Make Mycroft Blush The Most”. Mycroft only pretends to hate that game.  
Once they’re slightly less sticky, they curl up on the bed, spooning each other and caressing the bodies closest to them. Molly turns to Mycroft, nuzzling into his chest as he rubs her back before looking up at him. “So, Mycroft. Tell us the truth: how long were you spying on us?” She’s grinning, but even so he flushes with shame and looks down.

“I, truly, I didn’t mean to--,” 

“I’m not angry. We’re not angry.”

“I’m a little angry.”

“Sally’s a little angry. But not really. We just want to know how long we’ve been bona fide pornstars,” Molly says, giggling.

Mycroft sighs but nods, stroking her hair from her face. “About six months.” Greg whistles low in his throat.

“You’re a good actor, mate. We had no fucking idea.”

“Really? I thought I was dreadful at hiding it,” he chuckles. 

“Not even a little. We were terrified!” Greg laughs, pressing a kiss to Sally’s head. 

“He was terrified,” Sally said, grinning. “I knew you’d come for us eventually.

“You did /not/,” scoffs Molly. Sally sticks her tongue out at her in reply. “Right, so, you’ve been spying for six months. But how long have you /wanted/ us?”

“…About seven months.”

“Blimey.”

“Shit.”

“Duh.”  
Mycroft laughs, shaking his head fondly. “You’re ridiculous people.”

“Yeah, but we’re adorable,” Molly grins. Greg and Sally nod in agreement. “So it’s settled then. You’re ours now. We’ve marked you,” she sing-songs, kissing a love-bite on the base of Mycroft’s neck.

“I’m quite alright with that,” Mycroft hums.

“But no more spying, you hear?” Sally warns, wagging a finger at him.

Mycroft laughs, more freely than he has in years, and cuddles closer to them. 

“I no longer need to.”


End file.
